Haiku
snowflakes fall
into the donation jar—
Christmas Eve
autumn sun
her shadow darkens
their son's grave
pillowed
on my unpublished poems…
winter stars
ceiling fan
my thoughts scatter
around a haiku
plum
petals fall
each
a piece of me
war cemetery
a dove lights on the stone
angel's wing
a six foot man
curled up in a ball—
her three words
Haiku
Sequence
Her
Moon Face
you are
not
open to me, she yells
low spring tide
a firefly
in and out of my shadow
last summer dusk
mid-autumn moon
waiting to see her
in the dream
the winter moon
thinned to a thread
memory of her
